


Maybe We Just Shouldn't Mention This!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 12:23:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Obviously there's a lot to be said for sharing, for open communication.  Still, sometimes there are just things you're better off not mentioning.





	Maybe We Just Shouldn't Mention This!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little story to say Thank You to those who read my stories this year. Whether in the Hogan's Heroes string, the Garrison's Gorillas string, along with the occasional Man From Uncle/Girl From Uncle, and The Persuaders, even a Mercy Thompson (book) story, I, and the sisters and brothers of Clan O'Donnell, appreciate your Kudos and your Comments more than you can know.

Peter and Andrew had been sniping at each other since they'd left the house. Oh, most of it was in jest, but still, there was just a bit of truth to Andrew's accusations about Peter not double-checking that pasture gate, thus letting those ewes wander unchecked, and also a bit of truth to Peter's subsequent recriminations that he'd been well occupied with dodging Duggan, and he didn't think it was too much to ask for Andrew to have maybe helped a little and latched the gate himself instead of standing there laughing his head off.

Yes, there was enough truth and enough annoyance that that scuffling match up in the cliffs had only partly been in play, had a little more force to it than was perhaps wise. Of course, when they both lost their balance and skidded off the edge, that brought both of them to their senses. Clinging to that narrow ledge, crawling towards each other, then clinging to each other to keep from sliding down farther, they'd swallowed deeply and promised themselves, and each other, that, if they actually made it back to the top without breaking their necks, they'd never do anything quite that stupid again.

Of course, being the two of them, that promise went by the wayside soon enough, not that that would have been a surprise to anyone who knew them. And, of course, Caeide never heard a thing about the whole episode. They'd agreed, the both of them, that it would be best just not to mention this back home.

That got them to thinking about all the other things they'd decided 'not to mention', here and elsewhere.

There had been that incident with that red scorpion that Peter intended to squash with his boot when it darted out at him from the rocks on one of their excursions, remembering all of Caeide's warnings about such. Andrew, on the other hand, wanted to bring it back to the house.

"But she looks lonesome, Peter!"

"Don't bloody well care, Andew; it aint coming back to the 'ouse with us!"

Then, of course, he'd made the mistake of challenging Andrew on "just 'ow do you know it's a 'she' in the first place, Andrew?" and Andrew had proceeded to tell him that the females were larger than the males. Of course, never knowing when best to just stop the discussion, Peter had pointed out the dearth of any others with which to compare the wiggling creature. (He refused to admit that might have been tempting fate just a little too much, even with what happened not much later.).

Andrew had then started going on about other ways to tell them apart, all about the 'pectines', and whether they were far apart or came close to touching, all with a typical Andrew-like enthusiasm. And of course, taking in the blank look on Peter's face, had then proceeded to SHOW him, getting the tail end of the upsidedown and quite irate female scorpion far too close to Peter's nose for any degree of comfort. The advent of the entire nest of her friends and family had convinced even Andrew it was best to just depart the area quickly; their horses had long since made that same determination, and were waiting for them a good long distance away. Somehow the looks on the chestnut mares' faces were easy to read, even that far away. "Stupid! Humans can be so UTTERLY stupid sometimes!!!"

And of course, there had been that odd bet with Elis Tanner, the blacksmith, and Davie Rhys, constable and station master - just why they'd thought they could match the huge blacksmith drink for drink they'd never know. They didn't even really remember the details, but they did agree Davie Rhys had somehow been to blame; well, surely he was, what with him being the one ending up with every cent they had in their pockets. They'd awakened the next day, them and a pair of beady-eyed chickens sharing the straw in one of the stalls at the smithy.

They'd been truly grateful for the explanation Mali, the blacksmith's wife, said she had given Caeide by phone after it had been apparent neither of them were headed home THAT night.

"Seems they spent all day helping Elis with a job, and just wore themselves out, poor dears. Don't worry, now; I saw them all put to bed, safe and sound. Elis begs your forgiveness and forebearance, as he'll need their help most of tomorrow as well. An imposition, I know, Caeide. If he'd mentioned to me what he had in mind, I'd have teased him out of the idea, but then, he didn't, so what was I to do? Yes, hopefully they'll be back under your roof by dark tomorrow, though I'll call if it turns out that is overly optimistic."

She'd snickered as she hung up the phone, remembering the double layer of horse blankets she'd spread over the two slack-faced and snoring men. "Just hope they don't roll over and crush the new eggs, Elis! No, don't tell me what it was all about; I'm sure I have no need to know! And NO, of course I don't think Caeide believed me! She's hardly stupid! But she'll probably go along anyway, at least this once."

Their massive mutual headaches they were able to put down to them listening to the ringing of that anvil at the forge for so many hours. They were even pretty sure Caeide had believed the story, or at least, she hadn't challenged it.

Now, after their narrow escape on the cliff, they were laughing over all that, and then the conversation went to all the things that happened back in camp under that same heading of "uh, we probably shouldn't tell the Colonel about this".

"You remember the time we met those two female agents, and you convinced the blonde one that you were Papa Bear after they'd been all gushing over all the stories they'd heard about how great a kisser he was? That was funny! Though, seems you could have just kissed her right there, not having to go off to the next room like you did. And it seems to me it took you an awful long time showing her, and those noises you two were making, well, now that I think back . . ." Andrew had grinned a wicked grin at the smirking Peter Newkirk. 

"Well, 'ad a reputation to live up to, now didn't I? Couldn't 'ave 'er going around saying ole Papa Bear was a dud!"

"Yeah, well you were just lucky those two transferred up to that different unit before they met the real Papa Bear! Boy, he woulda been really pissed, and her too!"

"Now, Andrew, I'll admit 'E might 'ave been slightly annoyed, but I think she woulda been thanking 'er lucky stars I was willing to 'step in', so to speak. Gave 'er a right fine, uh, 'kiss', as I remember it!"

They looked at each other, and the snickering started, then the outright laughter.

THEN, they both remembered a few things from either farther back, before they got to camp, and it went on and on.

"And I never told Mom and Dad about that. Mom might have understood but Dad wouldn't, and Mr. Kellog SURE wouldn't have! Innocent as pie, he always though Junie was. Boy, did HE ever get the wrong end of the whip!" and "never let Mav know about that; figured she'd sleep better that way. Though Maude gave me a right good slap upside the 'ead, as I recall; told me next time I could just get someone else to pick the bloomin buckshot out of me arse at two o'clock in the bloody morning on a day when she 'ad early opening at the pub!"

By the time they got the horses settled, they'd covered a lot of ground, so to speak, and had learned far more about each other than they'd even thought to know. They were also well in charity with each other, but starting to get a little concerned about their reception at the big house. "Look like we slid down the side of a cliff, we do, Andrew," and that broke them up again, their laughter reaching all the way to the house.

Caeide and Marisol and Maude took one look at the two totally disheveled, torn and ragged characters making their way down the path, almost holding each other up in the wake of their hysterical laughter, shook their heads, and got out the whiskey and bourbon, along with the pastries they'd baked that afternoon. Sustenance was in order, that much was clear, along with a lot of patience and forebearance. 

And they had no intention of telling either man of that near disaster in the stillroom, much less the nonsense Duggan had put them through. And the less said the better about that mishap Marisol had with the stopper on that scent bottle, though how they were going to explain that overpowering smell of rose petals in Peter's room they just weren't too sure, though the discussion of possibilities had been quite hilarious. Well, maybe it was the lowering of the bourbon bottle during the discussion that aided in the general hilarity. They'd needed SOMETHING to settle their nerves after that minor explosion, with its accompanying smoking debris. Once things settled down, Caeide was going to have to have a word with Andrew about using her spare herb jars as containers for his fireworks powder, especially without changing the labels! At least, she assumed that was what had happened. She'd never had wormwood go up in a wild whoooosssshhh like that before, no matter how old it was. Though she had to admit the blue and red sparks had been rather pretty in their own rather uncontrolled way.

"Remember now, not a word! Can't see they have any need to know any of that! No sense in getting them upset!" Maude had cautioned, setting out the freshly churned butter (the second batch, the first having fallen victim to a trifling incident also not to be discussed), the pot of creme cheese and pot of chili sauce. For some reason, that just sounded like it might be right tasty with those raisin and honey pastries. No, she hadn't tried it before, but nothing like trying something new once in awhile, her old mam had always said.

Marisol agreed, "yes, well, the lads don't need to know everything, certainly!", reaching for the glasses, for some reason having trouble making her hand close around each, the way the foolish things insisted on bobbing back and forth like that. One, two, three . . . Alright, what came after three? She knew that, surely, as well as she knew her own . . . . Well, nevermind.

Oddly enough, not ten feet from the back door, Peter was saying much the same, "now Andrew, remember, not a word. Don't see they 'ave any need to know about any of that! Just get them all upset, most likely!"

Caeide was sitting watching the pair in the kitchen, then moving her amused eyes back to the two wavering figures approaching from the path. This looked like it was going to be an interesting afternoon. 


End file.
